


Tradition

by SealandRocks



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 04:26:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5571196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SealandRocks/pseuds/SealandRocks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean wants a kiss. Will Cas be willing?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tradition

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry that this is unedited. But who doesn't love New Year Kisses?? Enjoy!

“This is an odd tradition, Dean.”

Dean rolled his eyes, trying his hardest not to get flustered under Cas’ cute-as-hell confused expression. Why did the man have to look like a lost kitten every time Dean tried to flirt with him? It made it incredibly difficult to get anywhere with him.

“It’s to usher in luck and love and all that good stuff for the next year, Cas, just roll with it.” Dean said with a bit of exasperation, and luckily Cas seemed to consider that option for a moment.

“But kissing someone? I don’t see how that will do anything other than make one miss the New Year’s Countdown.”

Dean sighed and hung his head, taking a step back from Cas. He had had him right where he wanted him, in a quiet corner of the room away from any distractions. Sammy fixated on the television in the next room over, where very soon the New Year’s count was going to take place. But it was looking more and more likely that Dean wasn’t going to get a kiss this year.

“Just because you don’t understand a tradition doesn’t mean you shouldn’t take part.”

“Actually, that is a very good reason not to take part.” Cas contradicted, his eyebrows staying furrowed together. It was hard to take him seriously when he looked so adorable, but Dean struggled to anyway since this was important.

“But-“ Dean was cut off by Sam yelling for him from the other room. The count was starting, and they were going to miss it if they didn’t go back into the other room now. 

Dean tugged a hand through his hair and groaned, turning away from the angel. 

“We should go, it’s starting.” Dean could hear Cas pad softly behind him back into the den, but he didn’t dare turn around and look at him in case Cas starting asking more questions.

Dean didn’t think much of Cas standing so close to him by this point. He didn’t know why the other did it, but at some point he stopping minding the proximity in favor of enjoying it. However, as the countdown from ten ensued Dean was surprised to feel a tapping on his arm.

Ten. Dean turned towards Cas, the dark-haired beauty looking up at him with an expression he had never seen before. It was hard to tell, but it was almost as if Cas was debating with himself about something.

Nine. Dean opened his mouth to ask what the other was so obviously perplexed about, but was cut short by strong arms wrapping around his shoulders. 

Eight. Cas was pressing his body forward now, and all the oxygen was sucked out of Dean’s lungs. God, had he always been this warm? He felt like melted chocolate against him, but solid and delicious in a way that made Dean’s body beg to rebel against him. 

Seven. Dean murmured Cas’ name, but got no reply as slender fingers tangled into his hair. The hunter’s eyes nearly rolled back into his skull at the contact, and he bit his lip to keep from groaning. This was certainly something new. What was Cas doing?

Six. Cas was leaning in now, brushing their noses together and forcing Dean to focus on him instead of the wonderful nerves firing in his scalp. Cas closed his eyes for a moment, and Dean could have sworn that he was drinking in the scent of their breath mixing together.

Five, four. “This is a stupid tradition, you know.” Cas whispered, prompting Dean to chuckle. Stupid, maybe, but certainly effective. 

Three, two. Dean pulled Cas in tight by his hips, meeting his eye as their heads slowly tilted towards one another, hesitating for the New Year to be announced.

One. Cas whimpered softly. Dean went mad at the sound, pushing his face forward.

Happy New Year! Their lips met in a surprised and nervous dance, fidgety and exulted at finally getting the change to taste one another. And taste they did, quite thoroughly as the people on the television celebrated and kissed their own people with slightly less passion. Dean wouldn’t let go of Cas, not even when Sam whistled from the other side of the room, nor when the cheering settled down, nor even when his lungs screamed for air because he was finally kissing the love of his life, and nothing beat the feeling of being kissed back just as enthusiastically.


End file.
